


From New Kids On The Corner to New Pimps On The Block

by orphan_account



Category: New Kids On The Block
Genre: Dark, Exploitation, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pain, Prostitution, Unhealthy - Freeform, fictionalthough, fudged-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 19:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6821089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five guys trying to hustle up a dollar any way they can on the streets of the mean Bean.</p><p>AU.</p><p>Ages are deliberately left ambiguous. Read into it as you choose.</p><p>Some of the scenarios could be considered dubious consent. I don't condone anything less than explicit, mutual consent in real life.</p><p>Some of the non-NK characters are inspired by NK exes, 'famous' fans, or other notable people in NKOTB history. Have fun guessing at their identities if you like, lol (though not guessing won't affect the story)</p><p>Real exploitation of anyone at any time is NOT sexy, funny, or entertaining. This is FICTION. </p><p>I don't know these characters in real life. I make no money from this story.</p><p>drabbles, ish</p>
            </blockquote>





	From New Kids On The Corner to New Pimps On The Block

The memories were still there, though faded, the colors bleeding and draining until the mental images were in black and white. Maybe that wasn't quite right; maybe 'gray' was a better way to describe it. Life wasn't compartmentalized into 'right' and 'wrong', but one gray area stretching on until forever. Gray like the cobblestones. Gray like old Ironsides. Gray like New England weather.

The five friends, two of them brothers, had walked these streets. Now, it was their turn to make the money, while others did their bidding.

*Joey Remembers*

The first time he was paid to do things he'd wondered about doing for free. The Knight brothers had found him at an arcade, trying to use slugs to play a game. "You'll get kicked out, you get caught with those," Jon warned the younger boy.

"What's it to you?," Joey asked, not bothering to look at them.

"Nothin. Just thought maybe you'd like to make some real coin, 'stead of those fakes you got there."

Joey was hungry, tired, and in no mood for fairytales. "Oh yeah? Doin' what - lauhndry? Yahd work? No thanks."

Jordan shook his head. "Nah. Easier than that. You won't even have to break a sweat. You in?"

Joey turned, looking them up and down for the first time. They had clean clothes, nice shoes that fit, and shiny hair. They didn't look hungry or tired or broke. 

"You for real?"

They nodded. "We'll be out back, if you decide you - "

"Okay. I'm in."

Jon had showed him how, showed him how to hold it, how to read the signs that it was almost over. Jordan had schooled him on the risks, while his older brother taught the technical and business sides of things. 

Sometimes it was degrading. Sometimes it was dangerous. But it meant money in his pocket, food in his belly, clean clothes. It meant shoes that didn't pinch his feet.

They were a family, the three of them. Brothers.

\-----------------------------------------------------

*Jordan and Jon remember*

He'd always looked up to his brother. Theirs was a bond many didn't understand, but Jon's fist soon silenced any mouth that dared to suggest they'd crossed a line. Blood was blood; it was him and J against the world.

Jon had never thought to charge money for favors. An older man changed all that.

He was imposing, dressed like some sort of naval officer. Jon figured he was lost, walking faster. The car stopped, and the man told his driver to wait. 

"How much?"

"Excuse me?"

"What will a fifty get me?"

"'The fuck are you sayin'? You think I'm like - like - "

Jon scanned the street, spotting two girls huddling in the shadows. They cast him knowing smiles, laced with menace. 

"I'm not.. Jeez! Leave me alone!"

A hand on his arm, firm. Jon froze. The man: "You really aren't, are you?"

Tears. He swiped at them with his free hand.

"How much, son?"

How much was he worth? Nobody had ever bothered to tell him, and he'd never thought to ask.

He named a price, and it was accepted.

Jon never looked back.

\------------------------

Bringing Jordan into it had never been his plan. He put half of his money into savings for his family - mostly for Jordan. 'Odd jobs,' he called it. The others were too grateful to question it.

Jordan wanted to tag along. "I can work just as hahd as you! Let me help! Why can't I - "

Jon's eyes flashed fire. "NO. Stay here with the others."

Jordan followed him. He watched as a man in a suit led Jon behind the dumpster of a restaurant. As he approached, he saw - 

"What are you doin'?!"

Jon, swearing and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. The customer, fumbling with his belt and storming off.

"I told you to stay home! Why did - "

Jordan, trembling. "You do this for money now? YOU?"

"Don't you judge me."

"'Odd jobs,' huh?"

Silence. The anger dissipated into the fog.

"I'm gonna do it, too. If you try to stop me, I'll rat you out."

"Johdan.."

"I mean it, Jon. It's safer with two."

Jon had always looked out for him. It was time to return the favor.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

*Danny remembers*

Joey had been the one to find him. He'd just lost a job and was reading the want ads on a stoop when Joe walked up.

"Need a job?"

Danny laughed. "You need a pahtneh for a lemonade stand?"

Joe shrugged it off. "It's good money, if you're willing to learn."

He had nice eyes, a good build; he could pass for older than he was. Might even get into bars for those who wanted 'dates.'

"Oh yeah? Doin' what?"

Joe explained it all. Danny was quiet, but didn't flinch.

"You ever get hurt on the job? Roughed up?"

"Sometimes." It was the truth.

"If I tag along, keep you safe, do I get a cut? I don't know if I can..y'know.."

Joey understood. He knew better, knew Danny would cave, but he understood. 

"Like a bodyguahd? Yeah. Okay."

"Okay."

Danny learned he could do things he'd never though possible.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Donnie was already in business for himself, but times were changing. Clients wanted younger, or the illusion of it; they wanted variety, or multiples, or..

Jon picked the wrong corner one night.

It was the worst time: middle of the week and middle of the month. Too far after government pay day, and too early for regular pay day. Donnie sized him up: he was tall, pretty, well-dressed for that neighborhood. In short, he was trouble.

"Hey." The smile; the girls in the trade -he called them 'sistahs' - had dubbed him 'Hollywood.'

Jon gave an upward nod of acknowledgement.

"So, uh, I don't wanna have a problem here, but, this is my turf."

"Oh, this right here?" Jon waved a hand up and down the block.

"Yeah. They call it Vine, on account of I'm Hollywood. You dig?"

"Nah. Fair's fair. Guy's gotta eat." 

Donnie noticed the younger man hanging back, just around a corner. He clenched his fists, nails leaving angry half-moons in his palms.

"Look, 'Hollywood' - what if we work together? I mean, not that you need my help. You can say no, but, I'm not movin.' I have as much right to be heah as you." 

Donnie considered this. He wasn't really a fighter, and this guy was offering to pool their earnings. If he got ripped off, he always had violence to fall back on.

"How many of you are there?"

"Four of us stick together. Five's a lucky number for me. You in?"

Donnie felt something - fate, maybe - pushing him to take Jon's hand. "Okay."

"Brothers."

\-------------------------------------------

Performing was tiring. Clients wanted young, fresh-faced, innocent. Time to shift to management.

The five reached a consensus: They would start recruiting new talent. 

Donnie was the first to hit pay-dirt.

She was bottle-blonde, thin, but had that girl-next-door vibe about her. Her small chest made her seem younger than she was, and she was leaned against a bus shelter, reading a tourism guide and sucking on a cherry-red lollipop.

A sheep to his wolf.

Putting on his best manners, he approached her. Today he had on his trust-fund-baby-slumming-it look, and it set her at ease.

She agreed to let him show her around. The girl was dazzled by his sophistication, his humor and wit. She was also an inexperienced, but eager, drinker. When morning came, she woke up in his bed. Having fallen so far, it was easy to keep her there. Low. 

Danny, too, had found someone - a brunette with no higher ambition in life than to sleep with rich, powerful men. Natalie got along with the other girl, Jenna, finding they had a lot in common. 

Jon and Jordan had found their own proteges: One was painfully thin, with a bird-like face, but some men liked their women hungry. She'd just lost her job as a barista, and she seemed to cling to Jon, who smiled through gritted teeth as she told of her ambitions to travel the world. Jordan's girl was also blond, with a long, lean face and nerdy glasses. She whined a lot and used a terrible British accent, but there was a sass to her which would appeal to some clients.

That left Joey. Joey had a girl on each arm, one with curly red hair, the other a chubby woman of unspecified Asian descent. The girls were all in agreement about recruiting others, Donnie spouting motivational words of wisdom about 'spreading love.' They were brothers and sistahs, familia, and at the end of the day, everyone wants to belong. 

Five brothers and a million sisters, makin' bank. 


End file.
